


Loser

by KrisStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Inexperienced Louis, M/M, Nerd Louis, Pining, Popular Harry, Smut, basically lots of cheesy fluff with pining and smut, featuring eleanor and zayn as louis' cut-the-bullshit friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisStylinson/pseuds/KrisStylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis learns many things on prom night. One, Harry Styles looks great in a suit. Two, a makeover earns him a second glance from everyone except the person he wants to impress. Three, it’s not as hard to give a blowjob with braces as he thought.</p><p>Or a nerdy Louis undergoes a makeover to get the attention of popular Harry in typical, cliché fashion, except Harry is already his best friend and changing his appearance really doesn't help anything at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loser

**Author's Note:**

> It's been three months since my last post. Oops. :/
> 
> Huge thanks to [De](http://iwillscreamuntilearsbleed.tumblr.com) for helping me edit and giving me lovely ideas, but most of all for the wonderful encouragement!! And as always, for putting up with me complaining about my fics.
> 
> A thank you to the convenient [elounor](http://zourry.tumblr.com/post/103414783863/jo-dan-wedding-july-2014) wedding [picture](http://zourry.tumblr.com/post/103406335698/fuckingheleanor-new-photos-from-johannah-and) "leak" from Jay and Dan's wedding and [this edit](http://zourry.tumblr.com/post/101965280808/86-prom-night-memories) for giving me visuals for the fic!

Louis knew he wasn't popular and, usually, he didn't have a problem with the fact. Except for when he was reminded that Harry was and he didn't stand a chance. Then he most certainly had a problem with it.

 

He knew the way he dressed wasn't very “cool” and the braces in his mouth made his smile look less dazzling than it could've been to most, but he was comfortable in who he was and he wasn't going to change it just so he could sit at the table with the cool kids and have phone numbers crawling into his pocket daily.

 

And then there was Harry, who just _worked_. He didn't try and people adored him—he had everyone wrapped around his finger, from the nerds to the hipsters, jocks to the punks. Everyone was madly in love with him, and it just wasn't _fair._

 

But Harry called _Louis_ his best friend, and he knew it was one-hundred times better than any amount of sexual favors or “cool points” he’d earn in a place he'd only be at for four years out of his entire life. So, really, Louis trumped everyone in his eyes.

 

Truthfully, there was _one_ way it could even better than that, and that was if Harry would finally kiss his stupid, brace-ridden mouth.

 

It was awful because it was something that basically _everyone_ but Harry saw; he knew by the looks he'd get when he and Harry were together. Mostly pity for either one of them (to Louis because he just seemed the type to need it, and Harry because he was with him), or a look that told Louis they weren't meant to like each other, much less be best friends, and no one quite understood how it happened. Honestly, Louis didn't know either, but he was never one to question a good thing when it happened.

 

“Mate, you're zoned out again,” Zayn said from beside of him. Louis also didn't understand how he'd managed to get _Zayn_ as a friend. He was undeniably attractive and wouldn't have a problem getting anyone to cater to his every whim. He wasn't very interested in that, is what he'd told Louis when he'd brought it up. So he hung out with the unpopular crowd, though he himself was simply too quiet to make anything else of his high school experience.

 

“Sorry,” Louis muttered, nearly silent as they were in the middle of a lecture. He wasn't one to get in trouble either.

 

“Is it Harry again?” he asked, but he really didn't have to.

 

Louis' silence was answer enough. Zayn sighed. “You need to tell him before you end up running into a pole, Lou.”

 

Louis squirmed in his seat. “I'll get to it,” he answered, and he would. Later. A few weeks. Months. Maybe years.

 

“Soon,” Zayn corrected himself. “You know, prom will be here in a few days and you're both still dateless.”

 

Louis knew that, had tried in every conceivable way to sneak it into conversations inconspicuously every few days to make sure Harry still didn't have anyone to go with. He had been hoping he'd get up the nerve to ask him to go—as friends, because he was nowhere near ready to put himself out in the open like that with Harry. So far, all he'd gotten was many half-questions and sentences changed during delivery.

 

“I know,” Louis said in a way that let Zayn know the conversation was over. Zayn sighed and faced forward once again. That was something great about Zayn that had attracted Louis to be his friend in the first place; he didn't press and hover when Louis wasn't up to talk.

 

Class ended the same as always with Zayn giving him a small nod in departure and Louis returning it before he made his way to his next class and most definitely didn't look forward to seeing Harry run down the hall toward him as he always did during class changes.

 

Except he totally did and grinned just as big as ever when he spotted Harry at the end of the hall.

 

“Hey,” Harry greeted him when they'd caught up to each other. “How was class?”

 

“The same as every other time you ask,” Louis replied with a smile. “It was good.”

 

“I'm just making sure,” Harry countered, sounding genuinely concerned for whether or not Louis was doing well. He had the sneaking suspicion that Harry pitied him and felt the need to make sure he wasn't being bullied—he used to be shoved around a lot until a few years ago, and even though he wouldn't say so, Louis knew it stopped because of Harry.

 

“You don't have to worry about me,” Louis said softly, but it sounded much too dramatic and serious for a five minute conversation, so he added, “Zayn watches out for me. People don't mess with him.”

 

“They don't mess with you either,” Harry stated, sounding like he was waiting to see if Louis would correct him. His eyes stayed trained on Louis' face, which caused Louis' cheeks to heat up.

 

“They don't,” he agreed, turning away before Harry could see what a silly little _look_ from him had reduced Louis to. He was thankful for nearing his classroom and a certain brunette. “I see Eleanor. I'll see you after class, Harry.”

 

He didn't need to look at Harry's face to know he was probably furrowing his eyebrows in confusion but still smiling because he was usually happy every time Louis saw him. He turned just enough to give Harry a hug as always and slowly walked the rest of the distance to the doorway by the classroom to meet with Eleanor who was giving him a smirk.

 

“So the hug still hasn't turned into tongues down throats,” she commented offhandedly, turning around and walking in with Louis in tow. Eleanor was also fairly popular, enough that the school expected her and Harry to get together at some point but Louis was thrown into the mix and it was like nothing made sense between them after that. There was also the fact that Harry was very openly gay, but that was only a detail.

 

“Why is everyone on my ass about it? I'm perfectly capable of handling it myself,” he muttered, trying to sound irritated but probably looking anything but. “Ever think the reason I don't bring it up to him is because I don't want to?”

 

“Someone's bitter today,” she whispered in reply, tone meaningful yet playful. “And that is the biggest load of shit you've ever let come out of your mouth, and you really do talk some shit.”

 

“Yeah, thanks, that's great to hear from a _friend._ Really.”

 

Eleanor sighed. “You know we're all just looking out for you,” she mumbled sweetly, pausing to give Louis a smile that he couldn't help but return. “And ourselves. Your moping does get old.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes. “I do _not_ mope.”

 

Eleanor raised an eyebrow at him that Louis pretended not to see. She sighed as she always did when Louis decided to be difficult.

 

“Come to mine this weekend?” she offered, tone pleading and hopeful. Louis couldn’t help his skepticism. “I’ve got an idea and before you give me attitude, it’s one to help you get Harry’s attention.”

 

As much as Louis hated to admit it, his curiosity piqued. He tried not to appear too excited when he spoke. “I’m listening. Reluctantly,” he clarified. Eleanor’s expression told him she saw right through it.

 

“Come to mine and you’ll know,” she finished vaguely. Louis immediately rolled his eyes and averted his gaze in answer to which Eleanor grew impatient and worried. “Please! Please, I promise it’s nothing bad. It’ll be harmless, I swear.”

 

Louis pretended to reject her for a few more seconds before she resorted to harsher words (“Come on, it’s not like you’ll get anywhere with your plan of fucking about and doing nothing, at least I’m _trying_!”) to which he finally agreed to be at hers on Saturday at eight.

 

“Wait—isn’t this Saturday prom?” he asked.

 

Eleanor furrowed her eyebrows and Louis could easily tell it was fake when she muttered, “Is it? Must’ve forgotten,” because she’d been going on and on about Max’s tie matching her dress for weeks.

 

“What are you—?”

 

He didn’t have time to get the question out before Eleanor was feigning a look of sympathy and pointing to her phone, murmuring “boyfriend,” and unlocking the screen to pretend to be texting. Louis really didn’t know how she had so many friends when she could be this irritating.

 

At the end of the day, Louis just knew it’d be best to let it go and focus on not focusing on Harry for the remainder of the day.

 

It was hopeless but no one but Louis had to know.

 

~~~

 

“Oh my God. Oh my _God._ ”

 

She couldn’t be serious.

 

The week had passed with many failed attempts on Louis’ part of asking Harry to prom, and lots of disappointment in the fact that Harry hadn’t asked him either though he shouldn’t have expected differently. But Harry was still in fact dateless as Louis had heard confirmation of yesterday, and he really shouldn’t have been as happy about it as he was.

 

Now he was at Eleanor’s as promised, which was really a dumb idea and he should’ve known.

 

“Oh, don’t be a prude, it’s just hair spray,” she muttered like Louis’ disgusted face was ridiculous. “Nothing harmful.”

 

“There is a ramp on my fucking head,” he replied stoically. “You made my head into a skate park.”

 

“It’s called a _quiff_ , and I find that insulting. You look hot.”

 

Louis blushed under the affection, trying hurriedly to cover it up with a sarcastic, “I’ll have skater boys begging to ride me. Or at least my _hair_.”

 

“You’re intolerable. And gross,” she whispered, fiddling around more with his hair as she spoke. “Could you be still for two seconds?”

 

Louis was about to argue that he’d been still for _hours_ now, even when she came near him with scissors (thankfully it was just a trim around the edges of his hair) but he knew his breath would be wasted.

 

When she finished, she made him stay put even longer because she “wanted a good look at you now that you aren’t hiding your face behind that—lovely—mess of hair.” It didn’t take long for her face to break into a grin ( _literally her entire face_ ) as she put her hands together excitedly. “You look gorgeous.”

 

“As opposed to…?”

 

Eleanor swatted at his arm. “Hush and show me your suit.”

 

When Louis gave her a nervous smile, she looked nearly ready to have a heart attack. “You _have_ a suit, don’t you?”

 

Louis shrugged. “I didn’t think it was necessary?”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Lucky for you, I’m a great friend who was thoughtful enough to ask Zayn for your size which he surprisingly knew, which leads into a whole other round of questions, but I’m settling on calling this woman’s intuition and demanding repayment in the form of compliments on your end.”

 

Louis dramatically fawned over her as she shoved the suit in his direction and pushed him into the bathroom. “I’m going to put on my dress so don’t come out until I say, okay?”

_I’m gay,_ he wanted to shout back, but he figured he’d be a little uncomfortable if someone saw him naked even if they weren’t interested in his gender, so he settled for an, “Okay.”

 

When he reemerged from the bathroom, his first thought was to compliment Eleanor’s dress as she looked amazing as expected, but she was much more interested in praising Louis. “If that boy doesn’t bed you, I will have no choice but to declare him legally blind, deaf, and blatantly stupid.”

 

Louis smiled because, underneath the banter and pushy attitude, she did seem to care and he couldn’t have been thankful enough for what she’d done for him in the past few hours even if he didn’t feel much different besides the absence of fringe on his forehead.

 

“Thanks,” he whispered, hoping it was enough to convey how much it meant to him. She tilted her head in a sideways smile and pulled him in for a hug. “I’ve got to meet Max outside, but Zayn promised that he’d come by to get you soon. Harry will be with him, so I suggest keeping a camera out to capture the first moment he lays his eyes on you because he’ll probably look like a cartoon character and it’d be great blackmail.”

 

Louis laughed. “Go enjoy yourself,” he said, patting her on the back. “And thanks again.”

 

“Compliments!” she shouted after him even as she was descending the stairs. “And don’t you _dare_ mess with the masterpiece I’ve created on your head!”

 

He stuck his tongue out in her direction though she was already out of view, sighing to himself as he anxiously waited and feared the second Zayn would show up.

 

He had successfully gone through an entire four scenarios of what would happen when he saw Harry when he heard the distinct sound of a car pulling into Eleanor’s driveway. He stalled by thanking Eleanor’s mother for letting him come over even though he’d been here countless times before at this point before she ushered him out the door and made him promise to have a good time. Louis laughed and said he’d do his best, though on the inside he only prayed it wouldn’t be a complete bust.

 

The first thing he noticed was Harry holding a door open in his typical charming manner, except now he was dressed up and Louis swore he didn’t have any sort of kink for clothes, but _fuck_ , Harry could’ve easily passed for a model (Louis might’ve been biased). Louis would’ve been on his knees in a second if Harry asked him, which wasn’t very different from any other day, but. His point was that Harry looked hot.

 

He was too busy staring to notice that Harry was doing the same up until he reached his door. Harry’s eyes were trained intently on his face and Louis did his best not to look as affected as he was.

 

“Hey,” he said, offering him a nervous smile. Harry reciprocated quickly, muttering his own, “hi,” before a silence fell upon them once again. Louis was torn between wanting to stare and wanting to get out from underneath Harry’s gaze, unsure of which would be more beneficial.

 

Zayn made the decision for him by saying an inappropriate, “Prom etiquette is to fuck _after_ the dance, so if you could kindly get back in the car.”

 

Louis’ eyes widened, his brain shouting at him to deflect the insinuation that he and Harry were more than friends as always, but his heart said fuck it. It was prom night, he’d already let Eleanor make him over, he could push the limits of what the regular Louis Tomlinson would and wouldn’t do.

 

“I’ll—yeah,” Harry stuttered out through the silence. Louis surprised himself with a steady smile and a raised eyebrow in Harry’s direction that had Harry rushing into the car without meeting Louis’ gaze once. But Louis wasn’t very educated on what people did when they were attracted to each other, much less when they were attracted to _him_ , so he didn’t know whether to take it as a compliment or rejection.

 

He got into the car with less enthusiasm than he’d had walking out of the house, closing his door and looking pointedly out of his window for the entire ride.

 

The school was crowded as expected, girls shuffling along in too-tall heels while their dates were attached to their arm or dragging their feet behind them as if they’d rather be anywhere else but there. Louis sympathized with the latter, all thanks to Harry bloody Styles and his own lack of knowledge in the flirting department.

 

Louis went to open his door, fingers twitching around the handle in his rush to get out the car and inhale some fresh hair and maybe hide out in the bathroom for the next two hours before Harry could spot his escape.

 

He was lucky enough to manage half of that—he had gotten to the doors before he’d been spotted by Niall who immediately shouted his name and urged him over. Louis smiled tersely and scanned the group he was standing with—Eleanor and Max were leaned in the corner having their own conversation while Liam was positioned in front of Niall and giving Louis a small smile. They were both closer to Harry than they were to him, but they were friends and it was better than hiding in a bathroom stall like a total loser.

 

He made his way over to them, receiving a friendly pat on the back from Niall and a nod from Liam. Eleanor looked at him questioningly, her head tilting to look behind him, in search of Harry he assumed. Louis bit his lip as she realized he wasn’t there and, of course, gave Louis an unimpressed look.

 

“Where’s Harry?” The question surprisingly came from Max’s mouth, but everyone seemed to notice the absence of the curly-haired lad as soon as it was said.

 

“Yeah, I figured he’d be with you considering he’s your date and all,” Niall spoke, smiling casually as if there was nothing odd about his statement.

 

“He’s not my date,” Louis rushed out, his words jumbling with the pace. He only regretted it when Eleanor shook her head in his direction.

 

“He didn’t ask you?” Niall inquired. Liam jabbed him in the side with his elbow, shooting him a glare that told him to shut up. Louis watched on with confusion evident across his face.

 

“Why would he?” he quickly countered, his heart rate picking up because it sounded a lot like Harry wanted to ask him here of his own free will. Niall shrugged nonchalantly, but he was an open book and Louis could sense the awkwardness when he clarified, “You guys were both dateless and you’re best friends, he figured it’d be better than going stag. But I guess he just assumed it was implied, you know?”

 

Louis nodded, his heart dropping. So that’s what he was, simply the better option. Better than going _stag_. He only hoped it wasn’t obvious when he opened his mouth. “Yeah, I know,” he agreed quietly.

 

“Speak of the devil,” Eleanor muttered, her tone almost bitter. Louis turned his head just in time to see Harry and Zayn approaching them. He quickly took a breath, hoping the extra oxygen could help soothe his frantic thoughts.

 

“Sorry, Harry apparently can’t open a door,” Zayn said in lieu of a greeting. Harry nudged his side but made no move to comment further as he shuffled his feet and stared at the ground.

 

“Turns out there’s lots of things Harry can’t do,” Liam said. “Open doors, make eye contact, ask certain people certain questions. Just to name a few.”

 

Harry’s eyes shot up to give Liam a surprised look that quickly turned deadly to which the boy just shrugged and raised an eyebrow. The whole thing was bizarre to Louis and left him confused, so he shook his head and didn’t think about it too much.

 

“Come on, lads, didn’t come here to take jabs at each other,” Niall said, breaking the tension. “We came for a fun night. I think a nice, innocent group dance is what we all need.”

 

Everyone agreed much quicker than either Harry or Louis did, but Louis marked it up to their own bitter moods and dropped it.

 

He really shouldn’t have, as he discovered group dance wasn’t as “group” as he thought. It was more the rest of them going off to find their dates one by one and leaving Harry and Louis alone.

 

Max and Eleanor were the first to go, dancing together more than with anyone else as expected. But then Zayn claimed Perrie was calling him, Liam said Sophia had broken a heel, and Niall followed a tall, pretty girl he called Barbara to a private corner to, as he’d put it, “get as lucky as a man can in a public place.”

 

And so, he and Harry were alone and Louis really hated them all.

 

“So,” Harry said above the roar of the music. Louis stared at his feet. “So,” he repeated in reply, arms crossed over his chest as his mind tried to come up with an easy escape.

 

It was silent for a few seconds until Harry sighed audibly, running his hand through his curls as Louis imagined doing with his own fingers many times daily. “Come on, Lou. We’re best friends and we’re acting like we barely know each other.”

 

Louis shrugged. Harry stepped a little closer to him.

 

“We can dance, even though I’m shit and you know it,” Harry offered with an outstretched hand. “I’ll embarrass myself just like old times, okay? I’m willing to do that to make you stop pouting no matter how cute it is when you pretend to be mad at me.”

 

Louis didn’t know if it was the way he’d called him cute, or just Harry’s regular charm, but he found himself smiling in spite of it all and placing his hand in Harry’s. Harry quickly jerked him forward, causing him to let out a surprised squeak with his hands on Harry’s chest on instinct. He tilted his head up to meet Harry’s smirk.

 

He suddenly didn’t care about anything else but that.

 

He returned the smile for a few seconds until he remembered he had metal mouth. He quickly closed his lips. Harry frowned, but hurriedly replaced it with another smirk as the music changed to a softer, slower song. “Come on, dance with me. Unless you’re afraid I’ll woo you.”

 

Louis scoffed to hide his blush. “If _anyone_ is being wooed, it’s you and your annoying little ego.”

 

“Believe you’ve got us mixed up. See, I’m _confident._ You, on the other hand, have an ego as big as your bum.”

 

Louis didn’t open his mouth for a solid ten seconds because this sounded a lot like flirting and made his heart flutter like a child. Plus, you know, Harry had just casually mentioned his bum in a sentence, so he had every reason to forget how to do basic human functions. Like speak.

 

“So are we going to dance or not?” He found the will to ask, both out of nerves and need to change the subject before he made an even bigger idiot of himself.

 

Harry challengingly put a hand on his waist. Louis pretended to be more confident than he felt and placed a hand on Harry’s lower back, dangerously close to his bum. Harry’s expression faltered which was enough for Louis to count it as a success.

 

“So,” Harry muttered. “I’m gonna need some help with this whole dancing thing. I have two left feet and I don’t want to break any bones tonight.”

 

“Yours or mine?” Louis teased, an effortless smile gracing his face. Harry laughed. “We’re both in danger, so if you’d be so kind as to save us both.”

 

Louis chuckled. “Like I’m any better, huh?”

 

“Like it’s possible to be worse than me,” Harry answered. Louis shrugged, nodding along in agreement. He watched Harry give him the same look he always did when Louis teased him—content, verging on fond. He hadn’t really noticed the last part before, or more honestly, he hadn’t allowed himself the luxury. He felt like he had more of a chance with Harry then than he ever had before, and it felt _normal_.

 

They danced slowly (or Louis led them both in a small circle to keep it safe, really) for a good margin of the song—or it could’ve been short, but Louis didn’t know because he had much more important things to focus on, like Harry’s charmingly pretty smile.

 

Of course, his fantasy world only survived a little while longer even with his cautious, slow movements because Harry had to step on his foot just as he was finally gaining hope.

 

“ _Christ_ , I’m sorry,” Harry apologized. “This is what I mean. I’m surprised I can even walk. I’m so sorry, Lou—“

 

“Harry, shut up,” Louis muttered, laughing to lighten the mood. “You’re clumsy. I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to dance.”

 

Harry bit his lip. “I didn’t injure you, did I?”

 

Louis laughed more genuinely. “No, I can still walk. We’ll just skip out on slow dances for the rest of the night.”

 

“I ruined your night with my giant feet,” Harry whispered with a pout. “I’m sorry, boo.”

 

Louis sighed, his brain trying to come up with ways to comfort his best friend when the last few notes of the song slowly faded out and a more upbeat pop rhythm began. “No, hey, hear that? Come on, you can dance to this without killing anyone.”

 

Before Harry could protest, Louis was pulling him closer and dancing in a way that probably could’ve been defined as a slightly more innocent form of grinding, the kind of thing you’d see a drunk couple doing at a club because they were too intoxicated to keep any finesse to their movements. And really, he could make a fool of himself in front of Harry (and possibly the entire school) if it meant he’d stop worrying about his big feet and start worrying about Louis pressed against his front without a sliver of space between them. (He also didn’t mind that Harry would be thinking about that instead. Quite the opposite.)

 

Harry’s expression was surprised and shocked before he relaxed and smiled jokingly and, yeah, that was right. This was a joke to Harry at best and it really wasn’t a joke at all to Louis as much as he let Harry think, but. Harry wasn’t worried anymore, so Louis decided to save the load of dreading he’d be feeling for when he got home.

 

“Didn’t think this was your type of dancing,” Harry muttered teasingly. “Not even sure if you can call it _dancing_.”

 

Louis cocked his head to the side. “Are you asking me to stop?” When all he got in return was silence and a shrug, he sighed. “Right, well, you’re shit at _dancing_ anyway so consider this your alternative.”

 

 

Harry gave him a look that made Louis anticipate his next few words, but Harry literally bit his tongue and shook his head, putting his hands on Louis’ hips and flipping him around so his back was on Harry’s front. “I think it goes a bit more like this though, right?”

 

He was thankful that they were fairly well-hidden out of sight of the faculty members, because this position was definitely more telling than how they’d been moving before. Louis couldn’t do anything but stutter out a, “Y-yeah,” and do his best to keep from getting hard.

 

They were both pretty quiet after that—Louis’ mind was flooded with the dirtiest thoughts he’d had about Harry, like, _ever_ , and a small part of him hoped something similar was going through Harry’s brain, too.

 

Louis must’ve had a fairy godmother or a genie or _something_ , because soon enough, Louis could feel something hard in what he assumed was Harry’s groin area poking against his lower back.

 

“Uh—Harry,” he began, fumbling for words to voice his thoughts and coming up blank. But really, why should he talk and ruin his fantasy moment anyway?

 

He felt Harry’s mouth close enough to warm his neck with his breath, and this was _it_ , Louis thought. This was when Harry would spin him around and kiss him, and every rule of high-school hierarchy would be destroyed forever because Harry was with Louis and Louis was with Harry. This was when he’d get to validate wanking to the thought of Harry more often than not and all the dumb little _H_ ’s and ♥’s he always found written on his notes that he must’ve subconsciously drawn. This was going to be Louis’ moment, if Harry would just _speed it up_ —

 

He was ripped from his thoughts by getting pummeled to the ground by a girl stumbling around in heels she _clearly_ needed more practice walking in. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tone sounding as fake as anything. That was until she looked to see just who she bumped into; she didn’t change her tone until she spotted Harry beneath Louis’ form. “Oh. I’m _really_ sorry.”

 

Harry scrambled underneath him, because the universe hated him and made sure he landed directly on top of Harry and most likely crushed the boy. “That’s, uh, okay. I’ll just—I need to go anyway,” he rushed out, his eyes darting around the room frantically in search of the exit. Louis sat up with a question on the tip of his tongue but as soon as his weight wasn’t holding Harry down, the boy was up and out. Louis saw the girl give him a smug look just as she turned and walked away, leaving Louis’ sitting alone on the ground as he was very heavily reminded of what his place was here and what Harry’s was. He felt like an idiot for forgetting it.

 

He heard the sound of heels clacking against the floor and assumed the girl was coming back just to rub it in, but he looked up to meet the sight of Eleanor’s approaching form. “…if you let him just _run off_ like that, I will lock you both in a fucking—I don’t know what, I’ll rent out a porn studio just so you’ll both _take a hint_.”

 

She stopped both mumbling and walking when she made it to Louis’ place on the ground. She held out a hand expectantly; Louis let her help pull him off the ground, fully prepared to give a detailed explanation of what had just gone down when she abruptly turned him toward the door and gave him a shove. “Can you walk the rest, or do I have to escort you?”

 

Louis sighed, knowing there was no way he’d get out of this with Eleanor on his case as hard as ever. He shook his head quickly, his heart swelling with a renewed fear that he overcame with a newfound confidence as he swallowed and stalked toward the exit in the same way Harry had seconds ago.

 

He didn’t know where to look once he was out, really, but he supposed Harry didn’t exactly know where he was going when he rushed out either. So he stood still by the entrance and scouted the area for a mop of brown curls and came up short. He had the sinking feeling that this was how it was supposed to go—he was supposed to embarrass himself and run Harry off on the one night he was actually considering giving it a chance. He didn’t like it at all.

_But_ , he thought sourly, _fuck it_. Eleanor didn’t dress him up for disappointment, Zayn didn’t convince him to even _show up_ for nothing, and he didn’t wait years for this sort of ending to what was supposed to be a fairy tale event.

 

As if fate was giving him a shove in the right direction (a much nicer, _softer_ version of Eleanor’s), he walked to Zayn’s car and found Harry with one hand on the door handle and the other in his hair.

 

“Harry,” Louis shouted, just to make sure he caught his attention before he managed to escape. “Harry, if you get in that car—”

 

“Can’t open the door again,” Harry mumbled like it was a joke, laughing nervously. He looked everywhere but Louis’ face.

 

“Don’t joke with me right now,” Louis began, “And please look at me.”

 

Harry looked up with a flushed face, gently turning himself so his back was against the car door and he was completely facing Louis. “What is it?”

 

Louis crossed his arms, half out of anger and half in insecurity. “Don’t ‘what is it’ me like you don’t know what happened.”

 

Harry sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—you know,” he finished, cheeks tinted with embarrassment.

 

“Didn’t mean to, or ashamed that you did?” Louis questioned, sounding a lot surer of himself than he felt.

 

Harry’s expression was unreadable. “Louis, come on—”

 

“No, be honest,” he continued. It was like once he’d started he couldn’t stop. “Were you in there thinking about someone else while dancing with me?”

 

“Of course I wasn’t—”

 

“So you were thinking about me, then? And you left me sitting alone on the fucking _floor_ because you were ashamed of getting hard over a loser with fucking metal in his mouth?”

 

“Could you let me talk for five minutes, please?” Harry pleaded, speaking as fast as Louis could remember hearing him talk. It took Louis by surprise almost as much as his words—he didn’t know if it was that or genuine curiosity that lead to him simply nodding and letting Harry speak.

 

 

“I wasn’t thinking about someone else,” he stated before anything else. “I was thinking about you. And, well—you clearly know what happened.”

 

Louis started to ask the question burning into his mind by now, but Harry beat him to it. “I left because I was embarrassed, but not over you. I was embarrassed that I, you know, _got hard_.”

 

“Oh,” Louis muttered, because of course getting embarrassed enough to leave when you’d just popped a boner against your friend was fucking understandable and he’d yelled for nothing. But. Still. “And that’s it?”

 

“I guess?”

 

Louis sighed because he hadn’t given himself the best mental pep talk of the century for _this_. “Jesus Christ, Harry, you’re thick.”

 

Harry choked on air. “Um—that’s. Nice of you?”

 

“Not your stupid cock,” Louis said bitterly, because as much as he fantasized about the thing, it was the reason for his troubles now. “It’s your stupid brain and your stupid obliviousness. You’re really stupid, you know?”

 

Harry opened his mouth like he still didn’t quite understand, but Louis didn’t let him speak. “You’re fucking— _you_. You’re popular and lovable and fucking _hot_ , and I’m constantly drooling over you but you never seem to notice and it’s,” Louis’ hands threw themselves up of their own accord, “fucking _annoying_. Do you know how annoying you are?”

 

Louis continued despite Harry’s confused expression. “And, you know, I let Eleanor do whatever you call this,” he gestured to his entire body, “to me because she knows I’ve wanted you since forever, but you haven’t reacted to it once since you first saw me and I’m really starting to lose hope of you ever noticing here.”

 

He let a silence fall upon them in which Harry stared and Louis panted with nervous breaths.

 

“Is that what this is about?” Harry asked softly, much less harsh than Louis’ tone from mere seconds ago. He smiled sweetly. “You got all dressed up for me?”

 

“Of course, you fucking idiot,” Louis said quietly, because he really didn’t have much else to lose.

 

“Louis,” Harry murmured almost regretfully, tone sounding pitiful.

 

“I know I’m pathetic and I don’t need you pitying me and making it worse,” Louis said, arms crossed over his chest on instinct. “If you’d move, I’d really like to get in the car and cry a bit now as I’ve been holding it in for a while.”

 

“Stop being a drama queen,” Harry began, “and come here.”

 

Louis walked straight into him, burying his head in his shoulder—it gave him the comfort of Harry’s closeness without letting him see his face. He didn’t flinch when Harry’s hand came to rest on his lower back to pull him closer.

 

“You’re pretty stupid, too,” Harry whispered, “because you thought you had to change yourself for me to want you back when I already do.”

 

It took a solid five seconds—the longest five seconds of Louis’ life—for the words to sink in, and even then Louis felt like he needed to pinch himself just to make sure it was real. He could still feel Harry’s chest moving with every breath, though, and he was pretty sure he was too aware to be asleep.

 

“Actually kinda miss the glasses. And the fringe,” Harry continued as he drew patterns on Louis’ back with his fingertips. He picked Louis’ head up from his chest and forced his mouth into a smile that turned his own lips up in the corners. “Couldn’t get rid of those pretty little braces though, could you? Pretty happy about that, I’ve always liked boys with fucking metal in their mouths.”

 

Louis pinched his side. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

 

“And if I said I liked kissing boys with fucking metal in their mouths, is that still teasing? Or does it not count when I mean it?”

 

Harry’s smile was wicked now. Louis made a point of stepping onto Harry’s feet to elevate himself, giggling softly at the way Harry’s mouth opened up in surprise at the pressure on his feet—Louis took advantage then, leaning forward and kissing Harry as soundly as he could’ve ever imagined.

 

Harry brought both of his arms around Louis now, tightening his grip and lifting him up; it was cute, but Louis had the suspicion that it was just to get him off his toes. Louis didn’t really mind, though, forgetting almost instantly everything except how Harry’s lips felt and how pretty he was and how good he made kissing feel.

 

Louis ran his fingers through Harry’s hair as he’d wanted to for a while now, keeping them there even as Harry’s lips left his mouth and instead kissed all over his face. Louis began smiling like a giant idiot, a pleasant fuzzy feeling creeping inside of him and filling him to the brim.

 

It was then that Harry shifted the slightest and Louis was reminded of how they’d ended up here in the first place.

 

“Could I take care of that?” Louis asked without thinking it through, then immediately regretted it when he realized it could’ve been too fast and too forward. Harry didn’t seem to mind though, if the way he reached behind himself and opened the car door was anything to go by.

 

“Thought you were shit at opening that thing?” Louis questioned with a small smirk.

 

“That was before you offered to get me off. Blame adrenaline or whatever else you wanna call it,” Harry answered honestly, and it was just like magic with the way Louis’ mind switched from happy to horny so quickly.

 

 

“Right, go on then,” he said hurriedly, ushering Harry back and into the car. He ended up tripping and knocking them both down into the backseat, but really, it got him from point A to point B quicker than whatever they were doing before, so.

 

Harry’s hands flew to Louis’ hair, threading his fingers through the strands and pulling gently while he directed his mouth to Louis’ neck. And for some reason, Louis found it suitable to say, “Eleanor will kill you.”

 

He regretted it as soon as Harry’s mouth stopped moving along his skin. “Pardon?”

 

“It’s the hair, she—” Louis sighed, “Fuck it, it’s weird thinking about her when we’re about to—yeah, and she’ll probably care less about the hair when she finds out why it’s a mess.”

 

Harry was quiet for a second. “So she was on you about this, too?”

 

Louis furrowed his brows. “Too?”

 

“She wasn’t really forward, but not subtle either. Dropped her fair share of hints,” Harry explained. “Niall and Liam, different story. Were constantly on me about asking you to prom, had to tell them you were my date tonight to get them off my back.”

 

Louis’ mind quickly flashed to his arrival earlier, the way Liam and Niall had spoken to him, and—“Niall mentioned that, but when I told him I wasn’t your date he said you were only going to ask because you thought I’d be better than going stag.”

 

Harry groaned, “He said that? Fucking—” he paused to sigh, “That’s Niall. Means well but puts his foot in his mouth more often than not without even realizing it.”

 

Louis’ face went red. “I guess we’re all guilty of that every now and then, right?”

 

Harry answered him with another kiss to the corner of his mouth; Louis grew impatient once he’d been reminded of what they were in the midst of doing. He pulled off his own suit jacket and coaxed Harry into doing the same, quickly pulling him in by the back of his neck and kissing him hard with intentions of going much further once both of their jackets were gone.

 

Harry seemed on an almost opposite brainwave. “Wait—is this too soon? Should we, like, properly go out first?”

 

Louis sighed, occupying his fingers by fixing the collar of Harry’s shirt. “I’ve personally been hoping for this for quite some time as it is, but if you’d like to wait, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

 

Harry stared at Louis’ mouth as he spoke, shaking his head and muttering, “Forget I said anything,” finishing with a kiss behind Louis’ ear. Louis giggled unashamedly at both his words and the attention, moving his fingers to the buttons of Harry’s shirt. “This okay?”

 

Harry nodded without letting his mouth leave Louis’ skin as Louis began undoing the first few buttons of Harry’s shirt to reveal his collarbones. Louis had the urge to bite and suck at them until they were a nice purple-red color to stake claim on what he was finally able to do, but for now he could focus on getting Harry as naked as possible in the backseat of a car and most likely sucking his dick.

 

He managed to get the entirety of his shirt unbuttoned, deciding he could leave the rest since having Harry raise up to shed them would waste time that could be spent making each other come. Harry quickly got to work at returning the favor, his lithe fingers having Louis’ shirt open in half the time it took Louis to get Harry’s undone.

 

Louis immediately went to latch his mouth onto Harry’s collarbones, the need too prominent to ignore. He nibbled and sucked, relishing in the way Harry would moan, the way the moans grew in volume as he continued. He shifted up Harry’s body for better access but ended up dragging their cocks against each other and _fuck_ , he couldn’t just stop that after he’d gotten a small taste.

 

He circled his hips over Harry’s in slow circles, whining in an embarrassingly high-pitched voice. His embarrassment, however, was quickly overcome when Harry made a similar noise in a slightly lower register. Louis was only egged on after that, keeping up the slow but small rocking motions while sucking marks into Harry’s chest.

 

“Lou,” Harry said in a voice that sounded absolutely _wrecked_. Louis quietly took pride in it. “You keep this up and I’ll come in my pants, and we’ve kinda gotta go back in there after this.”

 

Well, fuck. Louis hadn’t thought of that. _But_ , Louis thought ashamedly, _I’d be glad to walk around in come-stained pants if it means we finish this._ He quickly erased the thought because he wasn’t exactly experienced in sex much at all and he didn’t think this was an appropriate time to be exploring possible kinks.

 

However, it was a good time for putting his mouth to use.

 

He opened the fly of Harry’s jeans as soon as the thought crossed his mind, staring up at the boy to make sure he was still comfortable. Harry’s eyes were trained intently on Louis’ fingers right above his crotch so Louis figured he was more than safe.

 

“I wanna suck you,” Louis muttered, the words sounding childish in his brain but his breathless tone made them sound more sexual and appealing. Harry threw his head back and groaned, his neck straining as he swallowed and nodded his head. Louis’ eyes stayed trained on his throat for a second longer until he remembered he had something much better only a pair of boxers away.

 

His hands had a dull tremble as he fingered over the waistband of Harry’s underwear and hooked his thumbs underneath. He pulled them down along with Harry’s trousers just enough for the head of his cock to peek out from underneath the fabric and Louis couldn’t help but gasp—his mouth was watering at just this bit of exposure, he didn’t know how badly he’d be gagging for it (literally and figuratively) when he got to the entire thing.

 

“Christ,” Louis panted, giving a small and tentative kiss to the head of Harry’s cock. Harry’s hips bucked up at just that small touch, to which he bit his lip and Louis could see the pink of his cheeks by the stream of moonlight shining through the window. “Sorry.”

 

Louis shook his head, not knowing what to say with his mind already struggling to stay focused on the task at hand without creaming his pants. Instead, he leaned in and gave a kitten lick to the slit of Harry’s head. Harry’s hips twitched but stayed still after.

 

Finally, Louis decided he’d had enough of teasing and stalling and pulled Harry’s boxers down just under the top of his thighs, just enough to set his cock free. Louis could’ve come just from staring at it, honestly. To solve his problem (and to keep from peaking too soon), Louis quickly sucked the tip into his mouth with his lips covering the metal of his braces to make sure he didn’t hurt Harry.

 

“Oh, _Lou_ , fuck,” Harry praised quietly, his hands coming up to rest on the back of Louis’ head while his fingers stretched out to run through his hair. “You look so _hot_.”

 

Louis would’ve blushed had he not passed that stage when he _put Harry’s dick in his mouth_. He appreciated it nonetheless, and since he couldn’t voice it he instead hummed around Harry’s cock and took him just a bit further into his mouth.

 

He paused his movements and sucked hard around the head while he took one hand to wrap around the base of Harry’s cock. He drew the other up to massage Harry’s balls, trying to remember every trick and technique he’d watched in cheap pornos to make sure this experience was as good for Harry as he could possibly give him.

 

The fit was tight due to Louis’ braces (he’d insult them, but after finding out Harry liked them he didn’t see much of a need to hate them anymore), but Harry seemed to love it. He was squirming and whimpering and groaning, living up to Louis’ fantasies plus more.

 

“No, stop,” Harry ushered out. “Don’t wanna come ‘til I’ve at least seen your cock, Lou.”

 

Louis groaned in response as he scooted up Harry’s form, nodding his head as Harry’s hands gravitated closer and closer to his crotch. He palmed over him for a few quick seconds, but it was enough to drive Louis mad—he buried his head into Harry’s neck and grunted.

 

He had Louis’ zipper down in seconds, kissing Louis’ cheek to coax him up. “Come on, you’re pretty everywhere else, bet your cock is just as lovely as your smile.”

 

Louis giggled softly as he lifted his head up to meet Harry’s lopsided grin. He rolled his eyes, muttering about how blowjobs weren’t romantic no matter how hard Harry tried while Harry persistently kissed his face in efforts to get him to shut up. When that didn’t work, he reached for a grope to Louis’ bare cock. Louis’ voice cut off into a gasp while Harry stroked him softly.

 

“Bet I could get you off like this,” Harry whispered. “I bet it wouldn’t take much, would it?”

 

Louis’ hips stuttered against Harry’s fist, his mind falling over itself trying to decide whether he wanted to tease Harry or tell the truth. Ultimately, he only nodded his head because he was basically putty in Harry’s hands (or more literally, his cock was).

 

Harry’s other hand snuck between them moments later—Louis didn’t understand until he felt Harry’s cock sliding up against his and both of his hands clasping around them. Harry kissed beside his ear, muttering, “Fuck my hand,” and Louis could do nothing but obey.

 

Louis thrust up into Harry’s hands, focusing on the feeling of Harry’s dick against his own—the touches felt nice obviously, but that was what was _really_ getting him off. He couldn’t get over it, how Harry’s cock was just as hard and flushed as his was (over _him_ to beat it all), the way it was still slick with Louis’ spit. It was perfect.

 

They both were getting increasingly closer to coming; Harry’s grip became less and less firm as his mind lost focus while Louis’ thrusts had little to no finesse to them. Harry sighed, removing his hands altogether as he reached around Louis’ body to pull them flush together with his hands on Louis’ bum. Louis simply gave in and let Harry do as he wished, trusting him completely to bring them both to orgasm.

 

“C’mon,” Harry said. His face was red and there was actual sweat beading around his hairline. Louis thought he looked pretty. “Kiss, Lou.”

 

Louis leaned in and kissed him hard on the lips, open-mouthed and full of more spit and teeth than composure. It seemed to work for Harry, though, as he began to grind more firmly against Louis, their cocks dragging against each other in the most delightful way.

 

Soon the grinding turned to actual thrusts, Harry’s hips fucking up against Louis in a way that nearly made him fall to the floor. His limbs were jelly and he was sure the only part of his body he had any control of was his mouth, and even that was becoming more and more questionable.

 

His orgasm crept up on him, the slit of his cock spurting come before he could warn Harry. He would’ve felt embarrassed had he had the mind to, but all he could really think about was Harry’s warm skin and his spit-slick lips.

 

Harry came only a second later, keeping Louis tight against him as he rode it out. Louis pressed endless kisses to his neck and collarbones, finishing up what he’d started earlier with more contentment than he’d felt all night.

 

He imagined he could feel Harry’s smile without looking at him, more than sure that he was sporting the same look Louis had seen countless times before when they spoke about loads of nothing but Harry was happy to hear it all the same.

 

“That was hot,” Louis blurted out in his post-orgasm haze. “Could even say you perform better than fantasy Harry.”

 

“Hmm,” Harry hummed. “I think fantasy Louis doesn’t hold a candle to you either.”

 

He didn’t know for sure whether Harry was joking along with him or if he’d just admitted to masturbating to Louis as well, but he decided he was fine with either option.

 

After a few more moments of silence, Louis groaned, turning his head to the side and looking Harry in the eye. “We’re gonna have to clean this up somehow. We’ll have to clean _ourselves._ ”

 

“Zayn keeps napkins in the dash. I spill things in here a lot,” he explained. Louis’ stared at his kiss-swollen mouth as he spoke. “I think our clothes are only a little wrinkled, though.”

 

Louis finally broke his own gaze and sighed. “This sounds like it’ll turn into a lot of work already. I don’t like work.”

 

“Believe me, if anyone knows that it’s me,” Harry whispered fondly, laughing softly; his words could’ve been taken as annoyed, but he reached to wipe Louis’ stomach off anyway. Louis couldn’t help but grin back at him. Harry looked down at the floor, hand fishing through the pile of cloth they’d created. “I think this one’s yours?”

 

They ended up having to help each other dress, which should’ve been embarrassing but somehow wasn’t. Louis realized he had Harry’s suit jacket on his own body just as Harry looked down and realized his didn’t quite reach his wrists and was tight around his shoulders. Louis laughed and began to switch them, but Harry simply shook Louis’ jacket from his body and told Louis to keep his because he “made it look better anyway.” Louis didn’t argue, but it was mainly because Harry’s jacket smelled like him and made Louis feel the slightest bit claimed in a wonderful way. (He also didn’t mind to parade around the fact to everyone else.)

 

It took more time cleaning up that it should’ve, but Louis blamed it on Harry for licking up a bit of the come he’d collected from the seats on his finger. Louis thought it was only fair that he sucked the rest off into his own mouth as payback.

 

“We better get back inside before they come looking for us, yeah?” Harry mumbled, trying his best to both get the image of Louis sucking come from his fingers out of his mind and persuade him out of the car. Louis was still high enough off of sex and Harry that he got out without a fight.

 

Eleanor was the first to spot them, standing in a corner near the entrance talking to Max when she caught sight of the two of them. She nudged her boyfriend’s side and pointed excitedly to which Max simply nodded in their direction. While he was content with the silent approval, Eleanor brought it upon herself to rush over with her face splitting into a grin.

 

“I’d like to say I never doubted you, but I’d be lying,” she muttered, opening her arms and pulling Louis into a hug before quickly retracting and wrinkling her nose. “You smell like sex.”

 

“And you smell like rainbows and sunshine,” Louis answered sarcastically. She made a face at him just as Harry tapped his side and gestured to Niall who was in the same place they’d left him making crude motions that he followed with a thumbs up and his usual dopey grin. Harry’s lips turned up as he raised his own thumb in Niall’s direction while Louis opted for the less subtle middle finger. Niall laughed and blew him a kiss in his normal, joking manner, then immediately turned back to whatever (or whoever) he was doing before.

 

He spotted Zayn off with the group of Perrie’s friends that she’d ridden here with, Sophia thankfully being among them. He was happy he hadn’t seen them yet or else he’d have to face the guilt of having fucked in his friend’s backseat not even a half hour ago much quicker than he’d like (never would be too soon). He was speaking to Liam in what seemed to be a thoughtful conversation, and Louis was thankful.

 

He turned his attention back to his own conversation just in time to catch Harry gesturing something to Eleanor that made her wink and leave. Louis would’ve questioned it, but he felt Harry’s breath tickle his ear as he leaned in to speak to him and suddenly it was forgotten.

 

“My parents are having a date night tomorrow for a few hours and I’ll be horribly lonely without any company,” he whispered. “While a repeat of ten minutes ago wouldn’t be unwelcome, this isn’t an invitation for you to come over _just_ for that, okay?”

 

Louis laughed cheerfully instead of humorously. “Ever the gentleman, huh?” He turned so he was facing Harry more fully. “If this is your way of asking me on a date, it’s very cute and the answer is yes.”

 

Harry’s answering smile was enough to keep Louis on cloud nine for the rest of the night and the day after that.

 

~~~

 

They were in the car when Zayn finally brought it up.

 

“Eleanor caught me as I was leaving and said a lot of stuff. More than I probably needed to know,” he mumbled, starting the car while glancing at Harry and Louis in the mirror. “Since you were both outside and I don’t recall any outdoor bathrooms, I’d like to amend my previous advice of fucking after the dance and change it to fucking anywhere but my car.”

 

Louis’ apology was only half-hearted though his cheeks said otherwise and Harry was too busy becoming the human embodiment of fond in Louis’ direction to answer. Zayn seemed to accept it in his typical easy-going manner, pulling out of the parking lot and leaving Louis and Harry to it.

 

When they pulled into Louis’ drive, Harry gave Louis a not-so-subtle kiss goodbye that had Zayn muttering, “Break it up. You’re lucky I even drove you home considering how you’ve already defiled my car.”

 

Louis reluctantly pulled away, arguments of how Zayn had pushed him to make a move on Harry in the first place on the tip of his tongue. Harry spoke before he had the chance. “Tomorrow?”

 

Louis nodded with the same smile that hadn’t left his face since the first kiss. “Tomorrow,” he agreed, throwing a quick _bye_ over his shoulder to Zayn that was reciprocated with a wave of his hand before giving Harry’s lips one final peck.

 

He closed the door, mind racing with promises of tomorrow and the many tomorrows after that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, all comments/criticisms are welcome! Have a lovely Thanksgiving if you celebrate, and a wonderful Thursday if otherwise!!
> 
> ♡ tumblr: [zourry](http://zourry.tumblr.com) ♡


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